Those dots begin once more, only to die again in a flash.
Nothing.
Hmm.
“Did she buy it?” Noah asks slowly.
“Only one way to find out,” I reply, leaning down to grab a wallet from my bag. “Time to go play chauffeur, Mr. Dragon.” I hand him the wallet with the fake ID facing upward.
He glances at it and grunts. “Original.”
I smile. “I wanted to make sure you remembered it.”
His hazel eyes roll, and he tosses the wallet into the cupholder of his chair. Then he pulls his long, fiery hair back into a bun at his nape. That hair is what earned him the dragon nickname.
Well, that and his penchant for using fire to creatively take out his marks.
And the tattoo on his cock.
Although, the latter was a result of the nickname growing on him, so he decided to memorialize it in the way only Noah ever could.
“No weapons,” I remind him as he stands. “Sheriff Syrus is likely going to frisk you.”
“Sounds kinky.”
“Pretty sure he’s taken by one of the otherWidowsin town.” I’ve picked up on that use of a nickname through the chatter between the six females who own the town.
A town they bought withourmoney.
It took me seven very long years to track it all down, and imagine my surprise when I found a pretty little blonde omega as the culprit behind the hack.
That surprise only grew when I discovered her true identity.
And then the obsession began.
For the better part of the last few years, we’ve been developing a plan on how to exact our revenge.
Not on the Widows, as they like to be called, but onher.Our Lark.
For a while, we waited to see if she would return to the city to visit her brother. That would have been the easiest course of action for us. But as I continued digging through her history, it became apparent that she didn’t want to come home.
I thought she might return for her father’s funeral six months ago, and we prepared to grab her then. However, Giovanni never reached out.
Which was what birthed my idea to pretend to be him.
To lure her out on our own.
Take her home onourfamily jet.
And have a long-overdue conversation about the money she stole from us.
“Why are you still here?” Laz asks as he exits the jet’s bedroom in a freshly pressed dress shirt. He finishes rolling up the sleeves to the elbows, then goes straight over to the bar area to fix himself a scotch.
“Because I haven’t left yet, obviously.” Noah pops up out of his chair like a lethal cat, all athletic agility encased in a six-foot-three frame. “But you should be sure to save some of that tender energy for our new pet, boss.”
“Call me that in front of her and I’ll make you choke on my knot,” Laz returns without missing a beat.
I arch a brow. “You basically just guaranteed that Noah’s going to do exactly that.” The psychotic enforcer has been wanting an opportunity to suck Laz off for years. But Laz won’t let Noah anywhere near his dick.
